


in sleep

by griddle



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Bickering, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Boys, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griddle/pseuds/griddle
Summary: There's a thing with Wonpil and Dowoon—they've always been together. Maybe too close for comfort, but they'd rather have that than nothing at all.orThey fall asleep, waking dreams, sweet nights.





	in sleep

**Author's Note:**

> u know i just cant stop myself from writing something abt the way dopil seems to like literally share their beds. cuddling in their vlive??? wow i swear highkey dopil moment. i'd like them as confident gays too bc thats what they are lmao
> 
> see me at twt: @yuqq_puqq  
> cc: @yuqq_puqq

 

 _Would I know what you dream about?_  
_Would I learn all the secrets in your head?_

* * *

  
Dowoon and Wonpil had always been attached to each other’s sides since their first day of meeting.

At first, it was Wonpil.

When Dowoon was introduced as the band’s drummer, he was all shy eyes and trembling posture. Wonpil had immediately taken a liking for the drummer, bugging him on their first practice day with him, tagging along wherever he went, telling Dowoon all sorts of stories when he’s bored.

  
Jae called him “annoying”.

  
“How would you know Dowoon’s just tolerating you?” Jae sighs, looking back at their youngest playing games in a handheld console.

  
Wonpil won’t know that, nor anybody else. Dowoon had been considerate of them ever since, keeping his feelings in check, but letting out an occassional snarky comment. It’s probably because he’s the youngest, and can’t talk casually to any of them. It might be seen as a form of disrespect.

  
But Wonpil was the only one Dowoon would address informally, casually, without much honorifics. They’d talk like two lost souls finally whole again, could go on and on about games while pissing the whiny loser Jae.

  
It went to a point where Wonpil can’t  _focus_ properly when Dowoon isn’t there beside him, much less in the same vicinity.

One time Dowoon had to stay at their dorm because he’s sick. That day, Wonpil kept on pressing the wrong keys on his keyboards, kept on forgetting his lines and cues.

  
“Are you okay?” Sungjin asks during their break. Wonpil nods feebly, lips straightening into a thin line.  
“It’s just—Dowoon. Will he be okay, hyung?”  
“He’ll be fine,” Sungjin reassures, claps down a hand on Wonpil’s shoulder, patting it. “Why don’t you join us to eat? We have food ordered coming along.”

  
Wonpil watches Jae and Brian, watch the steady rhythm of their matched movements, the reassurance of each other’s presence flowing like water. He glanced at Sungjin, the ever reliable leader, a picture of power and empathy, that one person Wonpil looks up to be—always ready to save themselves as Day6.

But Wonpil has other issues, otheri thing nagging the tidbits of his brain. He can't ignore it, pretend that he'll like some food while Dowoon's probably feeling worse.

( ** _He knows the others are worried as well: Sungjin checking the medicine he bought, Brian skulking around for food Dowoon can eat, Jae looking up games Dowoon might play while he's sick. Wonpil just thought he'll act on himself than wait for them.)_**

  
“No, I’ll go see Dowoon. He might want some soup with him.”

Brian hastily offers Wonpil the soup he'd bought, telling Wonpil how to cook to Dowoon's taste. Sungjin slipped in the medicines, telling Wonpil he'd better have it earlier than later.  ~~He turned into an errand boy of some sort.~~

  
However, at the thin border of night and dusk, Wonpil had steaming bowl of ramen ready at their table, but he fell asleep watching Dowoon sleep peacefully.

Wonpil did cook and prepare the soup once it's done, about to wake Dowoon up. But he forgot about bringing the soup into their shared room, forgot about the medicine. In Dowoon’s sleep, Wonpil found rest, a certain kind of ambient music his eyes lulled to, head falling at the edge of Dowoon’s bed.

* * *

_"Wonpil?"_

_"Ah, Dowoon. You're awake? Did I disturb you?"_

_"Not really, hyung. I was just thinking you might be uncomfortable."_

_"No, I'm—oh no."_

_"What is it?"_

_"I forgot about your food and medicine."_

_"I think I'm okay now."_

_"I don't think so? See, I've just placed my hand on your forehead. You're still burning."_

_"That's not what I meant."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I'm okay because you're here."_

_"...Well, thank you. But you better eat and drink medicine before I can flirt back. I'll bring them in."_

* * *

 

  
_Would you know I dream about you?_  
_Would you know it’s no different from what I see in reality, a picture of love, a moment of joy?_

 

* * *

  
When Dowoon first came about the band he was to be the drummer of, his attention kept darting all across the room, nervous and excited. It landed on a certain wide-eyed man standing up from the synths and keyboards to greet him.

  
He was later acquainted to this man, named Wonpil, a part of himself he never knew he had. Dowoon was never one to turn away his hyungs. He respects them, found inspiration in their drive and passion to share their music, to improve. But he always kept on looking at Wonpil, his first ever friend in this area, the closest.

  
Dowoon found himself comfortable with Wonpil’s clinginess while the others felt awkward, or Jae and Sungjin repelling any form of touch from Wonpil. Dowoon went along with Wonpil’s aegyo on instinct, the two of them a headache package for their leader, Brian calling them “kids” like an aged uncle.

  
“Wonpil found someone to have,” Brian surmises, wincing at the sound of Dowoon and Wonpil cackling down the hallway. Apparently, annoying the hyungs was entertaining.

  
The duo became too attached to each other, that Wonpil decided he can’t sleep unless he’s next to Dowoon. That’s when Wonpil started heading to Dowoon’s bed at night, insisting sleep is better with someone besides you.

Sometimes, Wonpil would also nap when Dowoon decides to nap.

Sometimes, Wonpil was just there to annoy him, the two of them caught on tape when Jae was recording their dorm tour.

  
Dowoon minds. A lot. He doesn’t know why, he just does. That’s why that year, all the words Dowoon said were littered with _**“please stop going to my bed, hyung. I need my place, too.”**_

  
Dowoon never noticed it, the downtrodden look on Wonpil’s face, a cloud passing over it for a split-second before Wonpil shrugs, says an “okay”.

Wonpil doesn't want to think about it—he's a grown man greatly affected by simple words uttered by his bandmate. _But why is he affected? Why is he sad? Why does he feel like he confessed and Dowoon rejected him?_

That night, after a year of endless begging for them to stay at their respective beds, Dowoon was wide awake.

There's a Wonpil-sized space next to him, and a Wonpil sleeping one bed away. Dowoon unknowingly adjusted himself, body responding before he actually remembered that no, they'll be staying at their respective beds because _**damn**_ , Dowoon asked for it.

He asked for it, and now regrets it.

* * *

 

  
_I hope our dreams will meet, and stay there together. I’ll see you in my sleep._

 

* * *

  
It was approximately three years ago, the last of what Wonpil thought are infinite replays of him falling asleep because he watched Dowoon fall asleep, the first of all the times Dowoon will feel distanced from Wonpil—a boat gone astray in the sea, looking for a lighthouse it skimmed over.

  
Dowoon won’t speak up out loud. It was him who said it in the first place. But then he missed Wonpil’s warmth, the reassurance that he’s there, his soft singing with his voice, waking up and seeing his hyung had thrown his arms up again.

  
Wonpil won’t admit that the reason he likes to take a perch at Dowoon’s bed was just because he loves watching Dowoon fall asleep, to watch lavender eyelids blanket his black irises, full cheeks against soft pillows, hair wild and messy.

  
For Dowoon, Wonpil is the brightest sunrise and the hushed sunsets. For Wonpil, Dowoon is the breeze, the air whispering to the tree leaves, the silent storm whenever he drums.  
They never realized it, never unearthed feelings until the LieV happened.

  
As usual, because they’re the youngest, they’re the ones together. As usual, they fell back to their old routines, cuddling under the duvet, covering their cold feet with socks, doing stuff Jae had otherwise deemed weird _(as if doing mental telepathy talk with Brian in their sleep isn’t weird)._ As usual, Sungjin is avoiding all sorts of skin contact, especially in this setup. As usual Brian hits the hay  _fast._  As usual, when Dowoon volunteered to cook the noodles, Wonpil had followed to help him, cracking up because they know they’re failing to do ASMR.

  
When the LieV ended, the two of them were already comfortable under shared blankets, under one duvet, hands entwined and cuddling each other. They’re giggling quietly, Dowoon unconsciously snuggling closer.

  
“I missed this,” Dowoon confides, hears Jae stubbornly explain he doesn’t need a duvet, Brian can have it all to himself.

  
“Well, you kicked me out of your bed,” Wonpil juts stubbornly, letting an inkling of his heavy heart leak.

  
Dowoon contemplated—Wonpil could feel Dowoon's finger circle around his. Sungjin interrupted the argument of Brian and Jae before Dowoon quietly answers.

  
“Then I’ll go to your bed.”

  
Wonpil smiles, not the one with all his teeth and gums out, but the smaller, quieter one, the smile saying he’s been anticipating this, has been hoping for this, affected by warm words, flustered.

  
“You love me a lot, don’t you?” Wonpil mutters. He looks up to see Dowoon’s eyes, the black universe contained with the stars sparkling in it.

  
“I like all of my hyungs, but you’re an exception: I guess I love you.”

  
Dowoon felt his whole face go red, Wonpil laughed at it. They watched Jae and Brian still go about the duvet.

  
“but you’ll get cold!” Jae hisses.  
“I won’t get cold, I’m more built than you are!”  
“Doesn’t mean I’m thin I easily shiver!”  
“ _Yes, you do!_ You talk in your sleep for blankets even if you keep on giving them to me.”

 _ **"You two better stop arguing or I'll throw both of your blankets away!"** _ Sungjin growls, then wuickly apologizes to the staff readying for the night as well.

  
Wonpil makes a jab on Jae, Jae frowning in defeat. He knows both Brian and Wonpil is right, but still ultimately deciding to let Brian have the duvet, going as far as forcefully tucking the bassist in.

  
“They’re like an old married couple,” Dowoon complains, eyes heavy in sleep. Wonpil turned around to watch Dowoon slowly but surely dream, himself going along in the process.

* * *

  
Dowoon woke up too early, he knows- Jae and Brian are still conversing in their sleep.  Sungjin, the light sleeper, is surprisingly comfortable with his log-like position.

He saw Wonpil, who was previously cuddled up to him, now with his hands thrown up again. _He never changed,_ Dowoon thought, shifting closer for warmth, deciding to sleep again.

* * *

 

  
_In sleep, we meet, two hearts with one love._

 

* * *

 

Ever since then Dowoon had permanently camped at Wonpil’s bed, always a sleepover night.

Ever since then, Dowoon had to explain on Radio Live that he likes Wonpil the best, loved him because he’s the only one who matches his pace, the only one he found calm in, the only one he’d play games with even if he doesn’t know the rules. Wonpil coughs into the mic, panicking like as if Dowoon just confessed.

  
Maybe Dowoon did, and Brian had to ask Jae out of radio telecast if they’re in love.

  
“Yes, maybe.” Jae mouths. “Just look at the way they stare at each other. You’ll know.”

  
And it’s true. They look at each other from across the room, like they’re each other’s sweetest dreams, most beautiful goodnights, each other’s sunrise, each other’s wish turned into reality.

 


End file.
